Life Inside Out
by FicFloveR
Summary: When your husband decides to completely change your world with a text, where do you go from there? What is normal after that? What does your life become? It becomes a life inside out. A life unknown. A life unprepared for. A life unexpected. I am Bella Cullen, or is it Swan now..., and this is my life, turned inside out.
1. Chapter 1

Earlier today, my husband informed me that he would be going to stay with his sister until our house sells, or he "makes a decision", whatever that means.

He told me this, via text.

I was at work.

Earlier today I had to suffer through hours at work with people staring and talking. It's impossible to hide that kind of hurt from an office full of other women. They know. Some of them have been where I am now. They see.

They see the tears, he doesn't.

He was at work.

A few hours later I sent him a text, _This hurts._ He sent me a text back that simply said, _I know._ Does he really though? Does he feel anything other than relief? Obviously he's been thinking about this for a while now. It was completely out of the blue for me, but not for him, apparently. If you're the one that wants out, can it possibly hurt when you leave? I don't know...

Earlier this evening I cowered in a closet while my three kids ate dinner, just so I wouldn't have to look at him when he came here to pack his bag. I say here, because this obviously isn't what he considers his home anymore. How can home by anywhere that his kids aren't? I don't know...

Earlier, as I cried in to my knees while he stood by and watched, I wanted to hurt him. But I couldn't. He said he will come to the kids basketball game tomorrow, but he didn't mention anything about coming back with us for cake and presents. Has he forgotten about his only daughters birthday already? We just talked about it two days ago. Who does that? I don't know...

He told the kids that he's going to stay at Alice's house for a while. They are 6, 4, and 3. Does he really think they understand, can even comprehend the fact that their world has been fundamentally and irrevocably altered? Did he even think to consult me before telling them something like that, that maybe it would be better for them if we did it together? Did he think about them at all? I don't know...

Maybe this is for the best. Maybe now he won't be an asshole to the kids all the time. He wants to "be a big part of their lives". Does he not realize that he isn't even a big part of their lives now? Does he see how he only saw them for about an hour every day? I don't know...

All of these things I didn't know earlier today, and I still don't. It's 5:00 am and I haven't slept more than an hour tonight. Though I can think of nothing else, I still don't know anything.

The why.

The when.

The who.

Is there someone else? Is that what this is about? Do I really want to know? I don't know...

My name is Bella Cullen, and I don't know why or when my marriage fell apart.


	2. Chapter 2

It's 6:00 am, and thanks to a little Xanax, plus the sheer exhaustion of crying and then trying not to cry, I slept all night.

I hated myself for it.

I shouldn't be sleeping like that when my marriage has been dismantled from the inside out, and I'm still trying to find all the pieces.

Who does that? Who feels _guilty_ for sleeping through the night?

.

.

.

He showed up to the basketball game last night. He sat on the bleacher in front of me, and we tried not to acknowledge each other more than necessary. Me, because it just hurt too much and I was just so angry. Him, well, who knows why yet? Not me, that's for damn sure.

At least he made it to our daughters birthday "party" afterwards. Yes, I know for a fact that he had forgotten, and only remembered when his mom called to find me so she could drop off a birthday card. She still doesn't know.

That coward didn't even tell his own mother that he walked out on his wife and kids.

Goddammit, I even feel guilty for saying that he walked out on us, even though that's what he did. I know something is wrong with him, but I don't know what, and I don't know how to feel about him needing time.

Time from who? Me? The kids?

Anyway, when our sons got in the shower I told him that for now we need to just let the kids think that he's working a lot, and that's why he's not here very much. That, they understand. He has over-worked in the past and been home after they've gone to bed and then gotten up and left before they woke up the next morning. This won't be any different.

For them at least, and right now that's all that matters.

He asked again about having the kids for a weekend. I again pointed out that Alice doesn't have much space living in a double-wide with her fourth husband and their mash-up of kids. Or is it fifth? I don't even know anymore.

He apparently finally told his dad, and his dad has offered to let him come stay in the RV that is parked in their yard.

Does he really think that's a good idea? 'Hey kids nothings wrong, but come spend the weekend with me in a cramped up RV'? Really?

That, coupled with the fact that his mom will find out, I told him no. I don't want her being holier than thou and psycho analyzing my kids. She's a whack job anyway, no sense in subjecting them to her particular brand of crazy on top of everything else.

Instead, I offered to let him come back and stay the weekend in our house.

Scratch that, it's my house I guess, now.

Anyway, I volunteered to go stay with my mom for a weekend so that he could spend time with them. Of course that was after I made sure he was clear that spending time with them meant _actually_ spending time with them. No finding something else to do, or having other work to do, and then dumping them off on someone else.

Hey, at least I'll get a weekend of quiet.

.

.

.

Oh, my God, what am I going to do without my kids for a whole weekend?

I don't think I can do this...


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone is a fucking expert at failed marriages. Even people that have never been married before.

I know, because they all tell me everything that we did wrong.

They have no idea. No one has any idea what our lives were like. Even our close friends and family... no one knows exactly how a relationship works unless they are in it. Regardless of what he's done, this is on both of us.

The therapist I spoke to today was quick to point that out, though I knew that already and freely admitted it.

I sought her out to discuss our children. I want to make sure this has the least impact possible on them. Basically, I don't want to screw them up any more than what we probably already have.

She suggested that we tell them the truth and I grudgingly agreed. After all, they're smart kids, and my daughter can already tell something is wrong. She's only three, but she's become increasingly clingy and whiny, almost sad. It's like she's taking every emotion I'm trying to hide and replaying them right in front of me.

I don't want her to live like that.

The therapist said that we need to sit down together and tell them the truth, but when she realized that I don't even know what the truth actually is, well, she was a little shocked.

See, we had seen her together a few times before. I asked him to go with me because something wasn't right, he wasn't happy, and I was worried. I told them both that I was worried he was going to get more and more unhappy until he felt like he had no where to go but out.

I'd had conversations with him before where I had approached him about what was going on. I asked him if he needed time, space, a break, anything. He always reassured me that, no, he didn't need any of that. There was nothing wrong, he loved me.

Well, let's just say that I've never wanted to be wrong more than I do right now.

The therapist suggested that she call him to come in and see her, mainly about the kids, but to also stress the importance of being honest with me and giving me the explanation I deserve.

I was worried he would feel attacked, forced. I volunteered to call him myself.

Once I got home with the kids, got their dinner, finished bath time, and did laundry, it was already bed time.

He wanted me to call then so that he could tell them goodnight.

One part of me wanted to say no, that he walked out and he didn't deserve the luxury of getting to talk to them at night. The more rational part of me understood that he didn't want to leave them, he just didn't want to be with me anymore.

So I sucked it up, pulled on my big girl panties and dialed the phone.

Just hearing his voice as he spoke to the kids had my heart racing and my palms sweating, but not in the good way. In the sickening dread way.

Once the good nights were exchanged I walked to our old bedroom and asked him to call the therapist about the kids. That we needed to make a decision about how/when/what to tell them. He reluctantly agreed.

I also reminded him that he had already promised to take them to basketball on Saturday since I had to go in to work. He had conveniently forgotten about that too. I was going to let it go, but the therapist pointed out that all the times I let him forget his obligations didn't help reduce his stress, as was my intention, but it did enable the behavior to continue and get worse.

Of course that led to me getting more frustrated. He got more defensive. It snowballed.

Just when I thought the conversation was over he told me that he had made an appointment to see a therapist on his own. I told him that I hoped it worked out for him.

He told me that when I felt like I was ready, we needed to talk about us. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself.

What I did politely point out to him was that I had been here the whole time willing to talk. Practically begging him to talk. I've been ready, he was the one that wouldn't do it.

I told him that when _he_ was ready, and felt like he could tell me the truth, to call me and let me know.

He said he would, then brought the conversation to an end.

No I love you. No see you soon. Nothing.

Nothing.

Later I talked to my mother who promptly advised me to seek out an attorney and reminded me that she told me I never should have married him. I hung up.

My father called. He seems to be in almost as much shock as I am. He volunteered to come stay at the house with us, because we live so deep in the woods. I told him we'd be fine.

That all led to me sitting here on the couch trying to clear my head.

When that failed I fell in to one hell of a crying jag and pity party.

I wanted so badly to call him back and make him talk to me. Just to hear his voice. The same one that, hours before, had nearly caused me to have a panic attack.

I warred with myself not to text him and demand answers.

What stopped me more than anything was the fear.

Knowing, deep down, that he doesn't love me any more is one thing, but hearing the words actually come out of his mouth is another. I don't know that I could stand it.

I'm beginning to feel crazy. Literally crazy.

It's like there are three people living in my head. One that wants to rage at the world like a woman scorned, and scratch his eyes out. One that wants me to beg and plead at his feet to come back. One, the most rational, that tells me to slow down, take a deep breath, and just keep moving.

So far the rational side is winning, but it's a close call.


	4. Chapter 4

Friday was coming and he wanted to pick the kids up from daycare, spend the afternoon with them, then bring them home. I didn't know how to feel about that. Happy that he was making an effort to see them , but mad he was, for lack of a better term, playing house.

Anyway, on Thursday my mother called and offered to let us stay at her house overnight since they were calling for a mix of snow, sleet, and freezing rain.

I didn't even know they were calling for bad weather. I've been kind of plugging through, not able to pay attention to much else than just getting through the day without completely breaking down.

Edward always had to leave early for work, so when there was bad weather he could call the house and let me know that it was too much for my van to handle, or that the roads were okay. Now there wasn't anyone here to let me know, or to get the tractor out and scrape the huge double hill I would have to traverse to get out. By myself is one thing, but I wouldn't dare with my three precious children in the car.

I wasn't left with much of a choice other than to stay at her house to make sure that I could get the kids to school, and get myself to work on time. I'd missed enough this week due to this whole situation.

I thought maybe he would call my cell when he called the house and didn't get an answer to tell the kids goodnight.

He didn't.

I didn't hear from him at all.

I'll admit that I slipped. I checked his email and logged in to his Facebook account. I shouldn't have, I know that, but I felt like I had no other choice.

He hadn't given me any answers or indications as to his decision, so I was left with nothing but heartbreak and a burning desperation to understand.

Neither revealed anything to me that I didn't already know. He'd been oddly silent.

The next morning there was a three hour delay for the kids school, so I was stuck waiting to take them to daycare and school before I could go to work.

It was almost time to leave when I heard the backdoor to my mothers house open and close. I was in the back of the house, and my mother had left for work hours earlier. When I entered the living room I was shocked to see Edward greeting the kids.

What was he doing here? What was he thinking walking in to my mothers house without knocking, like he was still welcome here?

I nearly raced through the house, while he spoke with the kids, trying to keep myself busy. If I didn't, I knew I would lose it.

I had already packed our overnight clothes back in their bag, placed them in my now running car, and returned inside to lock the doors before he actually spoke to me.

He cornered me in the kitchen while the kids were using the bathroom.

"If you're ready, we need to sit down and talk about us."

That's what he said.

That's all he said.

No hello. No how have you been.

I took a deep breath and told him that if he was ready to talk then I would, just name the place and time.

He wanted to do it that night.

Great, he was going to pick the kids up, take them back to our house, cook them dinner, and wait for me to get there.

He was going to play house with my kids, in my house, without me. Then he wanted to tell me why he had left.

I simply nodded my head, not able to make any eye contact with him, and called for the kids to get in the van.

He picked our daughter up and carried her out behind me. He stood by as the kids got in, but didn't leave when they buckled their seatbelts.

"You know, it's okay to look at me, Bella."

I glanced at him, stupid, beautiful smirk in place like nothing had happened. I simply shook my head and said, "No, it's not."

He asked why, but I couldn't bring myself to answer.

Instead of letting me escape he threw the most unexpected words at me.

"Well, you look nice today."

He said them so happy, so carefree that I didn't know whether to smack him or thank him.

Why would he say that to me? Why, if he left me, would he think it's okay to pay me a compliment? Why would he think that it's okay to confuse me like this?

Talk about your mixed signals.

I didn't know what else to do, so I got in the van and backed out of the driveway.

I guess all my questions would have to wait until later.


	5. Chapter 5

**No excuse, other than pneumonia... Sorry. Plus, my apologies cause this chapter sucks.**

The workday had finished and I made my way home.

My nerves had flared with my anger. The more I thought about they words he had said to me earlier in the day, the more I was pissed that he would jerk me around in that way.

We had been best friends for 16 years. Half of my life. Ten of those, we have been married for. He should have more respect for me than to mess with my head that way.

Then again, he hadn't had any respect for me in a few years.

I walked in to my house and was immediately livid. He had been there, apparently all day, and made sure to wash his clothes and pack more things to take with him. But he didn't bother to clean up after the dinner he had made for the kids and himself.

The stove was littered with previously frozen chicken strips, a dirty pan, and a pot full of what looked like two boxes worth of macaroni and cheese. It was still full, and cold.

The table was covered with four dirty plates and four dirty cups. The silverware was scattered about, a few pieces on the floor. Honey mustard was smeared on the surface of the able, a tiny, perfect handprint to match our middle son.

It was all left for me to take care of.

As per usual.

I didn't bother doing anything other than immediately changing my clothes and beginning the cleaning stage of the night. I didn't know exactly where everyone was, but I could hear them.

The boys would need to get in the shower soon.

I set to cleaning it all up, ignoring him when he came in the room. Well, pretending to anyway. I was too mad and anxious to make a good show of it. The sound of things slamming about everytime I touched something probably gave me away.

"Look, if you're uncomfortable with me being here, I can leave."

His voice that used to bring comfort only brought animosity. Sure, now he offers to give me a choice in his leaving. As soon as my temper flares, I rein it back in.

"We'll discuss it later, Edward, after the kids have gone to bed."

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. Like I'd said the wrong thing. He's just anxious to make a quick exit. I can tell just by looking at him. He's fidgety.

Once I got the cleaning done I set about getting our boys in the shower, and put our daughter in the play room with her favorite toys. As soon as they were settled I made my way back to the kitchen where Edward sat, waiting.

Though we really need to wait until the kids go to bed, to spare them having to deal with our bullshit, Edward jumps right in. Again, ignoring my thoughts and feelings on the matter. Who cares what's best for our family if this is what's best for him, right?

He starts by accusing me for being the reason behind all the problems he has. Everything that went wrong in our relationship is my fault. He's done nothing wrong, and I have become an "unsociable bitch".

I listen, holding back my tears, and my retorts. I sit there silent as he shows me how much of a monster he thinks I am, not realizing that the real monster is him.

When he stops, I try to bring up our finances and his habit of overspending.

He refuses, says that he isn't here to be dumped on and criticized. Funny how that's all he's done to me since he opened his mouth, but he won't allow it to happen to him. He's going to leave.

I tell him that is fine, he can run, like always. Avoid everything that really matters. He never fights for anything, just runs away anymore.

He screams in my face, asking if I want him to fight.

I scream back in his and say that, yes, I want him to fight.

Before I can finish my sentence, telling him that I want him to fight for us, he's in my face screaming "FUCK YOU!"

I don't even realize I react before my fingers connect with his face.

I hit him. I am horrified and livid and justified and righteous and scared.

What have I done? This wasn't how I'd planned for this to go.

He wants to leave, he tries to leave. I ask him to wait, just for a minute, so I can tell him the things that I had want to. I point out that I sat and listened to him, he owes me the same now.

Yes, he is being a complete and utter asshole, dick, and any other bad word I can think of, but he is mine. And I have wronged him, though not in the ways he thinks. He only sees that he can't go when and where he wants to spend how ever much he wants on anything he wants. It's always about his wants.

"Edward, I need to apologize to you for a few things. First, I'm sorry for slapping you, but you can't deny that you deserved it. I'm sorry for not telling and showing you how much I appreciate you. I'm sorry for not giving you the time and attention that you need. And I'm sorry for letting our relationship get to the point where I treat you more like another child than a partner. But you have to admit that you left me no choice when I was the sole person responsible for our house and children, and for making sure you didn't spend all our money on cigarettes and fast food."

He tries to refute what I've said, but soon finds that he is unable to. He has left me to care for our family and house while he does as he pleases. Though I will admit that most of the time he was out working side jobs, but they were for money that we never saw. His side job money is his, and I never ask that any of it be put towards our family.

He also can't deny the fact that I've had to deposit money to his account on several occasions to make sure the bills get paid since he's spent it all on eating out every morning and afternoon, and buying cigarettes.

The shocker doesn't come, for me at least, until he breaks down crying. Literally a heap of a man, in a ball, crying.

He finally admits what I knew all along. He is confused. He feels lost.

He has fallen out of love with me.

What do you say to that?

I simply hold him as he sobs and makes a mess of my shirt. He may not want me, but, right now, he needs me. I may not want to help him through this, but right now, I need to.

No matter how mad he makes me, or how many insults he throws my way, I still love him, and always will.

Once he calms, I leave him to get himself together while I ready the kids for bed. I dodge their questions about the yelling they've more than likely overheard.

I make it back to our bedroom where he is waiting.

He spends hours talking about his fears, his feelings, and his misgivings about our relationship.

I talk about how much I love him, and how much I wish he didn't feel this way.

When he finally leaves, nothing has been resolved.

Sure, insults were thrown, anger was vented, and fingers were pointed. But nothing is resolved.

He left without a goodbye, and I am left with the sad realization that my marriage is most likely over.


	6. Chapter 6

**No beta, and no pre-reader, so blame me and the late hour for all mistakes...**

"Isabella, do you know what being co-dependent means?"

I look at my therapist. Surely she doesn't think that I'm co-dependent on my estranged husband. I've noticed no changes in my day to day life other than the fact that I miss him with a passion, or the person that he used to be rather, and that I've had one less person to clean up after.

It's actually been a bit easier getting things done in the evening knowing that there isn't anyone there to help me, instead of waiting for him to jump in assist with anything, getting angry and upset when he doesn't.

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves then reply, "Yes, I know what being co-dependent is, but I seem to be getting along just fine in my day to day things without him there, so I'm not sure how this pertains to me."

My therapist smiles at me and nods. She's a very nice lady, and got me through practically losing my mind when I had to go back to work after having stayed home with my three beautiful children for two years.

"In a sense, Bella, you are right. You don't classify as a certain type of co-dependent, but there are other behaviors which you may be familiar with that could explain quite a few of your reactions to Edwards behaviors."

I clear my throat, trying to keep the tears at bay. It still hurts to think about him, especially not knowing where he is at any given moment, or who he may be with. With watery eyes and a thick voice I ask her to explain what she means.

She sighs, takes off her glasses, and leans forward bracing her forearms on her knees.

"We've discussed, before, your decision to return to work as a direct result of worrying that Edward may lose his job due to his medical issues, correct?"

I nod in response, but still don't know why this is important.

"Yes, and we have also discussed how you tend to take on all the responsibilities at home to reduce his stress levels, in the hopes that he doesn't have any more spells if they are, in fact, stress related, right? And also, how you to tend to let things slide that actually make you angry, upset even, to shield him because you are afraid that he can't handle the confrontation?"

I nod my head, "Yes. I do all of that, but I just want him to be happy."

"I believe you, Bella, but what you need to realize is that in all your efforts to save him from everything that you think will harm him, you are enabling his behaviors by continuously allowing them to happen without forcing him to face the consequences."

I think about what she says for a moment, "Okay, I can see where that may be true, but how does that make me co-dependent?"

She shakes her head at me, "Not necessarily co-dependent, just exhibiting co-dependent behaviors. And, it qualifies in that you are basing your own happiness on his. Am I right?"

I reach across to the tissues and blot at my eyes, I don't want everyone at work to see me red faced and tear streaked when I go back at the end of my lunch hour.

"Yes, you are right, but I keep trying harder to do things for him because nothing works. He just keeps pulling further and further away from me, telling me that he doesn't feel like I contribute to our household. What am I supposed to say to that? I work just as hard and long as he does, I pay almost my entire paycheck to cover daycare and after school expenses for our children, and I basically take care of the entire house on my own. All of that on top of trying to start classes for my MBA. How am I supposed to respond to him when he clearly doesn't see things how they are?"

My therapist sits back in her chair again, narrowing her eyes in a thoughtful way. "Bella, when was the last time that you and Edward spent any time together, alone?"

I go to open my mouth and respond, but pull up short because I don't actually know the answer. We saw each other every day, but I don't know when the last time was that we didn't have the kids with us.

"I don't know, exactly"

"Well, Bella, since I haven't spoken with Edward, and can only go on the information that you've given me, I would venture a guess that this is less about you personally, and more about Edward feeling inadequate, and feeling left out. Think about all the time you spend taking care of everyone and everything around him, but how little time you take to acknowledge his need for your complete attention."

I feel anger rise up in my chest and feel my cheeks heat.

"So you're saying that this is all my fault because I didn't baby him _enough_?"

She shakes her head slowly and a sad smile appears, "Not at all. What I'm saying is that it's possible you've paid attention to everything surrounding him, but not him specifically. You've made decisions around him, but not included him, and even though it was done with him in mind, maybe he feels that you've taken over everything and don't need, or possibly don't want, him there. You've said yourself that you hardly find a day that you aren't silently upset with him for some reason, but you always handle it on your own. You don't involve him. A life has been created for his family that goes around him, but not through him.

"Maybe, just maybe, this is his cry for help. Given what you've told me of his upbringing it is entirely possible that he doesn't know how to communicate his unhappiness with the way things are between the two of you, and this is the only way he knows to get your attention, which, you've admitted yourself, he has always needed a lot of. You only have so much of yourself to give, Bella. Something had to give somewhere, and I'm willing to bet that the more time you spent "dealing" with everything Edward related, the less time you dedicated to Edward himself."

I roll my eyes and shake my head, "Even if you're right, it doesn't make it okay that he walked out on us, and it sure as hell doesn't fix what's broken in our marriage."

"You're right, Bella, it doesn't make his actions okay, and it won't fix what's broken, _but_, it does force you both to acknowledge the fact that there is a problem instead of ignoring it. I'd say you've both done that long enough.

"What you need to do is get in touch with Edward, and sit down and talk about everything that was said during your argument. I think that you may find there is another layer here to what is going on with him. And, remember, if you or he need me, I'm only a phone call away, anytime."

I simply nod, because the more I think about it, the more I can see that she may be right about this. I have done everything possible to make Edwards life easier, but I've never really asked him about any of it. Our household operates around him to keep him from feeling too overwhelmed, but maybe doing so overwhelmed _me_ too much. I have been in testy moods a LOT leading up to this, and usually over something that he had done, but I never discussed any of it with him. I simply reverted to clipped tones, one word answers, and cold shoulders. I always felt justified in my anger and hurt feelings. Maybe he does too...

If our situations were reversed, how would I feel?

As I make another appointment for next week, I pull out my cell and decide to do the right thing. I can be upset with Edward all I want to, and I do have every right to be angry as hell with him right now, but I need to take responsibility for what I may have done to contribute to our mess of a life.

I start taking that responsibility with just a few small words, that linger so heavily.

**Edward, we need to talk. Bella**

I don't know if we can make it back from where we are, but I can damn well try.

As I make my way back across town towards work, my phone vibrates with a response.

**Time and place?**

I park and just before I go back in to my office I send what will hopefully be our last text message for a very long time.

**I'll call you. No more hiding behind text messages. **

Well, here goes nothing.

**A/N I have to say, I kind of want to hit this Bella. **


End file.
